


cold hands, warm heart, all that jazz.

by astrangebird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bit of Fluff, First Kiss, Fjord and his thick head, M/M, Sickfic, also sorry for the truly bad timing I started working on this before the coronapocalypse, apparently they were in rexxentrum when i started this, there are very minor depictions of flu like symptoms but nothing gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangebird/pseuds/astrangebird
Summary: “Orcs don’t get sick.” Fjord clears his throat and crosses his arms in front of his chest.“Well you are only half orc, perhaps you’re only half sick.” Caduceus challenges, a sly smile quirking a corner of his mouth.Fjord gets the flu because he's a dumb jock that doesn't listen.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 12
Kudos: 144





	cold hands, warm heart, all that jazz.

“Hey, look at me, alright?” Caduceus’ voice calls from his left and his cold fingers are turning his chin to look at him, breaking Fjord from the tired fog he had slipped into. Caduceus’ face fills his entire field of vision, his brows pulled together in concentration as one hand tilts Fjord’s face to his liking and the other pulls down at his eyelid, which feels a bit puffy now that he thinks about it. 

Are Caduceus’ fingers always so cold? They feel like icicles on Fjord’s flushed skin. 

Caduceus hums, sounding vaguely displeased, and a disappointed frown pulls at his lips. Suddenly he’s tilting Fjord’s chin up towards the sky to probe two fingers firmly up and down the sides of his neck. 

“Have you been feeling feverish, Mr. Fjord?” Caduceus asks, tone even and serious. 

“Excuse me?” Fjord asks dumbly, feeling his balance tip from front to back before catching himself. 

“Sweaty? Aches and pains? Feeling cold on the inside? That sort of thing.” He clarifies, adjusting his grip to hold just the tip of Fjord’s chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting him again. 

“Uhm, I guess?” Fjord definitely felt warm being looked at so closely. 

“Open up.” Caduceus taps his thumb against Fjord’s bottom lip. He fishes a copper piece out of his pocket and rubs his thumb across it to start it glowing a bright sunny yellow. 

“What? Why?” For a frightful moment Fjord thinks Caduceus is going to stick the glowing coin down his throat if he obeys. 

“Wanna see if your tonsils are inflamed.” He states plainly and holds the coin to face him, “Need a bit more light.”

Hesitantly, Fjord does as he’s told and Caduceus peers inside his mouth, thankfully holding firm to the coin. He makes a few considering sounds before clapping Fjord’s jaw shut and tilting his head back to a more natural position so quick it makes his head spin. He wavers on his feet and grasps at Caduceus’ arm who in turn holds his shoulders. 

“I think you’re getting sick, Mr. Fjord.” Caduceus says with a concerned frown. 

“That’s nonsense.” Fjord dismisses, taking an unsteady step back from Caduceus and his cold hands. Why are his hands so cold? He takes a sniffling breath that turns into a cough that he poorly hides behind his hand. 

“Orcs don’t get sick.” Fjord clears his throat and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Normally he likes to think he looks good when he crosses his arms, it makes him look powerful, flexes his newly defined muscles. He likes to think he looks impressive, at least to Caduceus, which is really all he was trying to do. But when his posturing is met with Caduceus mirroring him, crossing his thin arms over his chest, his natural height causing him to look down his nose at Fjord, he feels like he must look a bit more like a petulant child today. 

“Well you are only _half_ orc, perhaps you’re only half sick.” Caduceus challenges, a sly smile quirking a corner of his mouth. 

“I’m not sick, just warm from all the walking.” Fjord rebukes and throws his cape back from his shoulders, bracing against the rush of cold air against his newly exposed skin and crosses his arms again. 

Fjord tracks the quick dart of Caduceus’ eyes over the swell of his bicep before returning to his face. He smiles with a smug sense of satisfaction. 

“If you say so.” Caduceus says, moving to walk past him and rejoin the group until he stops just at Fjord’s side. He looks him up and down for a moment before carefully pulling his cape back over his shoulder and smoothing the fabric flat. His hand lingers on his shoulder in a way that would feel friendly if there wasn’t a tension in the air that even Fjord and his _infinite_ wisdom could feel. 

“Take it easy. At least _try_ to not get sick, Mr. Fjord.” Caduceus continues, his calm voice dipping just a little lower around his name as if he were sharing a secret. 

“Of course.” Fjord replies, feeling a little breathless but he smiles confidently, or at least feigns it in a way he hopes is convincing. 

And for the remainder of the day Fjord continues in much the same way, finding reasons to push his cape out of the way or pull his gloves off, flexing when he thinks no one would notice except Caduceus. He could ignore the cold sweat starting to drip down his back if he could catch Caduceus throwing his eyes to the side in a less than subtle way. He could ignore the ache that was slowing spreading from inside his bones if he could see color flash on Caduceus’ pale face. Fjord could ignore the headache and sniffles and the cough if he could get the swooping feeling in his stomach every time he locked eyes with Caduceus while flaunting the bulk that the Wildmother gifted him. 

Until he couldn’t. 

Until he stood up too fast from a rather ridiculous and obvious bend and his vision goes black. 

\--- --- --- 

Fjord woke fleetingly off and on for what felt like hours, flashes of clouded grey sky or mud slicked streets, occasionally the backs of his friends or passers by though he doesn’t remember where they were traveling. When he finally wakes, finally feels conscious in a way that matters, he’s been dressed down out of his leathers and is curled in on himself under an inordinate amount of blankets. His body aches, his muscles clench as intense shivers rattle through him, and he’s cold down to his bones but he can feel his shirt sticking to the sweat on his back. 

He manages to peel his eyes open and is greeted with the familiar sight of the cottage in Rexxentrum, warmly lit by the crackling fire of the hearth. It seems to be getting onto evening by the shadows in the room, though Fjord has no sense of how long he’s been laying here, only that his back is sore and his body is stiff. With a groan he pushes up against the mountain of bedding to sit upright, his aching muscles protesting weakly. 

“I was wondering when you would wake up.” 

Caleb’s quiet voice startles him from the other side of the room. He’s sitting in a high backed chair by the fire with a book in hand, likely something pithy from the poorly stacked bookshelf downstairs.

Fjord lets a quiet whine stutter out through his chattering teeth and sits up straighter, curling the blankets up around his shoulders. 

“How long was I asleep?” He asks, dreading the answer. 

“Only a few hours. You were up and down for a while. Nearly punched Beauregard in the face while they stripped you of your armor.” A small smile tugs at one corner of his mouth and a huff of a laugh slips out, “She said you wouldn’t be able to get that close while you were awake.”

“No, probably not.” Fjord admits, a laugh trapped in his chest behind a cough, “Gods I feel like shit.” 

“You have the flu, Fjord.” Caleb states, still not looking up from his book. 

“Well don’t tell Caduceus he was right or I’ll never hear the end of it.” He grouses, tucking himself further into his bundle of bedding. 

“You fainted in the middle of the street. He knows.” That small smile returns, but this time it looks like it conceals a secret as Caleb finally turns his gaze towards him, “Besides, who do you think undressed you?” 

If Fjord weren’t already flushed a deep forest green with fever he’s sure he would be now. He had already assumed that Caduceus and Jester took charge in getting him comfortable but with Caleb’s icy stare on him it takes on a new light, like Caleb sees something he doesn’t. 

“Right.” Is all Fjord can think to say, looking pointedly at the fireplace and attempting to disappear in the blankets. 

There’s a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence, at least it feels uncomfortable to Fjord, when Caleb clears his throat.

“I am, ah- certainly not one to judge your technique on such matters, but uhm you haven’t exactly been subtle,” His eyes flick quickly between his book and Fjord’s face before settling back on the pages, “In your ah- dealings with Mr. Clay. He may have noticed your ah- displays.”

Fjord tilts to his side and flops back into the pillows, covering his face with the blanket. 

“No comment.” He mumbles and faintly hears Caleb chuckle and close his book. 

“He’s finally awake Mr. Clay. You can respond to this message.” 

Fjord jerks out of the bedding to see Caleb lowering his cupped hands from his mouth with a pleased look on his face. The sudden motion makes his head spin and he falls back to the bed with a strange sense of vertigo. 

“I thought we were friends.” Fjord groans toward the ceiling. 

“We are friends, Fjord. And friends look out for each other.” Caleb is quiet for a moment as he looks out into the middle distance, “And some friends make soup even when you don’t listen to them.” 

Caleb stands and gives him a look that could best be described as fondly chastising and Fjord shrinks in just a little further. Had he really been so transparent? 

There’s a quiet knock at the door and Caleb goes to answer. Fjord just catches a glimpse of bright pink before he ducks his head back under the covers hoping to disappear entirely. 

“Hey Mr. Caleb. There’s more soup in the girls room if you want some, but it’s gone a bit cold while we waited.” Caduceus tells him, his voice hushed like he isn’t sure Fjord is really awake. 

“Danke, Mr. Clay. Here, let me heat that one up for you.” 

There’s a faint tingle of magic in the air and a pleased chuckle from Caduceus. 

“Huh, that’s handy.”

“Ja, it has its uses.” 

“Thank you for sitting with him, Mr. Caleb.” 

“Of course.” 

“I’ll see about getting him to come down for dinner.”

“Let us know if you need anything, Mr. Clay.” 

“Will do, thank you.”

The sound of the door closing with a soft _clack_ startles Fjord and he curls his fingers tighter into the blankets. 

“Rise and shine, time for soup.” Caduceus calls gently. The ceramic of the soup bowl taps the bedside table and Fjord regrets relinquishing the Summer’s Dance and it’s quick escape. The bed dips behind him with Caduceus’ weight and a gentle hand pats at the blankets until it lands softly on the mass of his shoulder. 

“How ya feelin’, Mr. Fjord?” Caduceus asks with a squeeze to his shoulder. 

Fjord clears his throat in an attempt to sound put together and forces out a rough gurgling cough. 

“Fine! Fine. I’m just peachy.” He lies, his voice thick with phlegm and sinuses full of snot. 

“Fjord...”

The sound of his name without the mister is odd, nice, takes a bit of the chill out of his bones.

“I uh, I could be better.” Fjord concedes. 

“I thought so,” Caduceus sighs rubbing his hand up and down Fjord’s arm, “You just don’t listen when you put your mind to something do you?”

“Not usually.” Fjord agrees with a quiet chuckle. 

“Can you even breath under there?” Caduceus asks and tugs lightly at the blanket. 

“It’s a bit hard what with not being able to breath through my nose but I’m managing.” 

“Why don’t you come out of there and have some soup?” 

Fjord doesn’t respond. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to do about the soup. Eating would mean having to come out of the blankets and have Caduceus look at him when his nose is full of boogers and he smells like sweat. He just wants to stay in the blankets where he can be embarrassed in private. 

“I’m not mad at you Fjord, now come out and have some soup. Mr. Caleb even warmed it up for you.”

Fjord peaks the top of head out of the blankets and eyes Caduceus wearily. He’s greeted with the same steady placid expression as always and he isn’t sure if that’s worse than him being visibly moved one way or another. 

“The soup isn’t poisoned either I promise.” Caduceus says with that same broad smile that he always has that makes Fjord’s chest squeeze in that uncomfortably happy way. 

“I guess as long as it’s not poison.” Fjord grumbles, hefting himself back upright. 

For all that he was showing off earlier he feels exposed now. The clerics had undressed him to his smalls so he could be more comfortable while he slept, to which he is grateful, sleeping in padding and leathers is never comfortable. But now there’s just a loose shirt and far too short shorts between him and the world and the blankets feel so heavy and cumbersome in his flu fatigued fingers. In his futzing to cover his front he missed Caduceus slipping a throw from the end of the bed around his shoulders. It’s only until his chilly fingers brush against his overheated skin that he notices how close he’s gotten and Fjord tries not to flinch. 

“There we are, that ought to help. Gotta keep you wrapped up to break that fever you’ve got.” Caduceus explains brightly, his low rumble voice a soothing balm to Fjord’s anxious stomach and he can’t help staring at him a little starry eyed as Caduceus tugs the blanket tight around his shoulders and folds it over his chest. 

“Thanks.” Is all Fjord manages, hands dumbly patting the bedding around his lap. 

Caduceus hums his response and grabs the soup from the table, stirring it slowly and scooping a small spoonful to blow on and taste. He considers it for a moment, rolling the flavor around like he hadn’t been the one to make it earlier, and when he seems pleased he passes the bowl over to Fjord. It’s so warm in his hands and it’s the first thing he’s been able to at least kind of smell all day so he clutches it to his chest and hangs his head over it, basking in the heat. He thinks he might have made a weird sound of appreciation but right now he doesn’t care because this soup is suddenly the best thing in his life. 

“Just wait until you taste it.” Caduceus says with a chuckle, pleased with Fjord’s reaction. 

So Fjord eats, quick and loud, suddenly aware of how long ago his last meal must have been. He’s certain that this soup must taste delicious but with his nose as stuffed as it is he’s only getting hints of Caduceus’ always excellent cooking. Bowl in both hands he tilts it back to drain the rest and only then catches the soft smile of Caduceus watching him. Quickly, he looks down at his lap and wipes his face, hoping that none of the soup tried to escape past his tusks, and hands the bowl back to Caduceus. He nearly jerks his hand back when Caduceus’ long icicle fingers brush the back of his. 

“Thank you, Caduceus. Delicious as always.” Fjord mutters, tucking the blanket around him more securely. 

“My pleasure. Home made soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” 

“Well I hope I don’t make you sick. The rest of us are terrible cooks.” 

"Oh don't you worry about that. I can probably fix anything you make into something respectable."

“Of that I have no doubt.” Fjord says with a bit of a dopey smile, leaning back against the headboard. Though the smile is short lived as another shiver creeps through him. 

”Gods above Duceus the flu sucks ass.” Fjord groans. 

“Why do you think I told you to take it easy?” Caduceus says with an exasperated sigh. 

“Probably for my benefit as always.” Fjord replies with a sour sort of smile, “Give me time I’ll learn to listen to you more often.”

“Well if you aren’t listening to me then what have you been doing?” Caduceus asks, his face still kind but more carefully blank, watching for a reaction. 

Fjord swallows thickly, nerves gathering in his gut like he can feel the waves under him grow choppy but can’t yet see the storm. 

“What uh, what do you mean?”

“I feel like we’re playing a game, you and I, and the first one to say anything about the game loses.” Caduceus says carefully, “I’m willing to lose the game if you’ll tell me what you’re trying to win.”

Fjord sputters, takes a sharp breath, and proceeds to nearly cough out a lung before finding words to say. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m trying to win anything!”

“But we are playing a game.” 

“I- I didn’t say that either.”

Caduceus chuckles, clearly amused with Fjord and his avoidant language. He reaches forward, long billowing sleeve ghosting across the blankets and brushes the tips of his fingers across Fjord’s forehead, pushing back sweat stuck silver hair. Caduceus drags his hand around the curve of his skull and circles back to rest his palm against Fjord’s jaw and he feels a shiver of a different kind crawl up his back. 

Caduceus smiles and sighs, “Then what are you doing, Fjord?”

Fjord swallows another lump. Maybe it’s the fever making him hallucinate but gods above there’s just something about that broad smile on Caduceus’ narrow face that makes him feel brave. 

“Something stupid.” Fjord mutters before letting go of his blankets to grab Caduceus by the collar and pull him in for a less than gentle kiss. Thankfully Caduceus, for his part, doesn’t immediately jerk back in disgust like Fjord was afraid of but rather freezes on the spot with a startled sort of yelp trapped between his teeth. 

It's certainly not a good kiss, if you could even call it that. Fjord holds him there for only a moment before separating from him with a soft smack of lips. When he opens his eyes Caduceus is still bent at an angle, eyes wide and mouth slightly pursed, a burgundy blush coloring his cheeks. 

He clears a considerable amount of phlegm from his throat and straightens out Caduceus’ rumpled collar, looking pointedly at his own hands. “You know I’ve been trying to work on my impulse control and I don’t think it’s going very well.”

Caduceus blinks a few times before his eyes focus on Fjord again and that slow smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t know,” he starts, pulling the blankets back up around Fjord’s shoulders, “A little impulsiveness is alright I guess.”

Relief and excitement burble in Fjord’s gut and he leans into Caduceus’ fussing hands. 

"You think so?" Fjord prods, pulling out one of his confident crooked smiles. He's sure Caduceus knows this face, but he's also vain enough to know Caduceus thinks it looks handsome on him.

"Yeah I think it makes things interesting sometimes." He replies, fingers fidgeting with the edges of the blanket, cold knuckles bumping against Fjord's chest as he leans forward.

"Think I could do something stupid again?" Fjord asks, itching to move forward.

Caduceus thinks for a moment, looks down at his hands, smooths the blanket flat against Fjord's chest, and then very gently places his hands along his neck and leans in to kiss him first. Fjord is so startled by Caduceus' icy touch he almost doesn't know how to react. His mind is screaming at him in excitement and the sudden movement has made him dizzy and Caduceus' hands are so cold but his odd bovine lips are so warm and Fjord just turns to mush. He sighs into the kiss like it was coming home. 

Fjord feels like a lovesick teenager again, his movements uncoordinated like they were when he first grew a head taller than his peers over the summer and had to learn how to kiss around uneven tusks. He's forgotten how, and his tusks are a bit more even than they used to be, but Caduceus hasn't kissed anyone better so he has time to learn again. 

Before Fjord can deepen the kiss Caduceus pulls away. He doesn't go far, he doesn't even let go of him, just presses their foreheads together and smiles a quiet contented smile.

A little chuckle starts in Caduceus' chest before he speaks again, "You know, for all your want of diplomacy, you never thought to just… say something to me?" 

Fjord snorts a laugh and has to pull away to cough into his arm, "I'm workin' on it, alright?" 

Caduceus pats gently at Fjord's back, "Though I did enjoy the game."

Fjord rights himself again and holds onto Caduceus' arm, head spinning with the effort, and tries to put on another crooked grin. "So did I win?"

"If you wanted to get the flu, yes you certainly did." Caduceus smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the edges. For a moment Fjord swears he feels the warm wash of healing magic, but the gentle swoop of his stomach and the ache in his smiling cheeks tell a different story. 

With a spark of realization Fjord pulls back, covering his mouth with his hand, “Good lord I’m an idiot! I should have waited until I didn’t have snot coming out of my face!” 

“Oooh yeah maybe.” Caduceus agrees, face pinching in mild concern as he wipes a hand across his mouth. 

“Hopefully firbolgs have good immune systems?” 

“Well I would like to think that I do. I have a tea for that.” Caduceus says and pats at the pouch on his hip.

“And you didn’t make me any when you thought I was getting sick?” Fjord teases in mock betrayal. 

Caduceus lets out a bark of laughter and pats a large hand on top of Fjord’s head, “You wouldn’t have learned anything if I did that!” 

“Oh shut it I probably didn’t learn anything now.” Fjord groans and swats away Caduceus’ hand before indignantly bundling himself up in his blankets again. 

"So are you gonna come down to dinner or are you gonna sit up here and feel sorry for yourself?" Caduceus asks, picking himself up off the bed and righting his clothes.

Fjord shoots him his best grumpy face and is met with an indulgent smile. Why does he have to be right all the time?

"I'll come down for dinner and be grumpy there if you tell me where you put my pants."

"Oh yeah, those." Caduceus muses.

Rather than retrieving his lost pants Caduceus tilts his head in that way he does when he's thinking, his indulgent smile quirks into something closer to a smirk as he looks over Fjord's half bundled form.

"Caduceus?" 

"I heard you," He tilts his head the other way and his smirk grows more lopsided before he turns towards the small dresser against the wall, opening the top drawer and pulling out Fjord's well worn leggings, "I was just remembering that you have real nice legs."

Somehow Fjord manages to flush deeper despite the fever prickling under his skin.

"Thank you, Caduceus." He muttered into his lap, smiling to himself. 

He hums his response and offers his hand to help Fjord out of the bed. His protesting joints have him stumbling like a fawn. Fjord notes that Caduceus' steadying hands on his shoulders don't seem so chilled anymore. Once he's managed to hike his pants up without falling over he hears a faint chuckle from Caduceus, a stifled sort of sound.

"What is it?" Fjord asks, wrapping one of the smaller blankets from the bed around his shoulders.

Caduceus seems to force his laugh under control for a moment before replying, "Think you can keep your pants on through dinner?" 

Fjord stares at him, mouth agape, as he dissolves into laughter. He takes a few tentative steps back as Fjord lunges for the pillows and chucks one at his head, missing wide to the left. Caduceus cackles and runs for the door with Fjord stumbling after, blanket cape wrapped tight and an awful feverish ache in his bones but a new sense of wistful contentment following at his heels.

\--- --- ---

The rest of the night goes much the same, Fjord shivers and shakes his way through a rather tasteless dinner and ruins a rather lovely handkerchief that Jester forced upon him. Though it can't be all bad with Caduceus' arm wrapped around his back in a touching but futile attempt at keeping him warm. When they all usher him back to bed for more rest he goes willingly, the siren song of the fireplace and thick wool blankets calls his name. 

He wakes from a fitful sleep at dark o'clock, the fire still crackles in the hearth giving off a low amber light. He's drenched in sweat and his arms nearly give out as he sits up in the bed. The fever must have finally broke. He's managed to climb out of the bed on legs about at steady as a new born deer in his search for dry clothes when a small broken snort of a snore startles him.

Caduceus is asleep on the floor, though Fjord can't remember him being there when he went to bed. This wouldn't strike him as odd if he was stretched out on his bed roll and snoring loudly like he usually is but he's not. Instead he's curled up on his side with Fjord's cape pulled up around his neck on top of his blankets and an uncomfortable pinch to his sweaty brow. 

"Good immune system my ass." Fjord whispers to himself as he carefully walks around Caduceus for a change of clothes and to stoke the fire.

Once dry and fairly certain he wont fall over if he kneels down Fjord gently shakes Caduceus' shoulder.

"Hey, Caduceus." Fjord calls quietly, smoothing a hand over his unruly tangle of pink hair as he blinks and snorts in that oddly endearing way of his, only to roll and bury his face in his blanket and cough in a far too familiar way.

"Hmm? What? Oh, Mr. Fjord, are you ok?" Caduceus asks in a daze, looking for injury as he so often does.

"Ha, I'm alright, I'm alright," Fjord assures, rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to assuage his fears, "Are _you_ alright? You seem to have taken a bit of a turn for the worst."

"Just a little cold. All the rain here is gettin' to my joints, you know?" Caduceus mutters, deflecting as always.

"Mhmm, sure, why don't you come up here and sleep in the bed then?” Fjord asks, ignoring Caduceus' terrible lie and also the small excited bubbling in his belly, “Got all the warm wool blankets up here."

"Oh no that's alright, you need the bed and the blankets to get over this sickness you've got." Caduceus objects with a wave of his hand and an unsteady attempt at getting up. "I'll just move closer to the fire. Thank you though."

Fjord helps him to his feet where he wobbles like a sapling in the breeze. He keeps Caduceus’ clammy hand in his and holds his confused and sleep gaze. 

“I never said I was going to take the floor. There’s plenty of bed for two,” Fjord says, trying to quirk a smile but knows this one looks nervous, “And if it’s a tight fit that just means you’ll be warmer. Right?”

One of those slow crawl smiles tugs at Caduceus’ mouth and Fjord can’t help but smile back at him. Caduceus gives his hand a squeeze and sways gently in place and Fjord can’t tell if it’s cute or if he should be worried he may faint. 

“Sure. I think that sounds nice.” 

“You can keep the cape for the night if you like.” Fjord adds with a wink as he ushers Caduceus toward the bed. He’s not sure if the color in his cheeks is from the fire or not but he likes the look of it either way. 

Fjord feels he should give Caduceus some credit, he very valiantly attempts to get his entire body on the bed without bumping into him, but there’s just a bit too much of him for a bed meant to hold just one average size man. 

"I understand my brother better now, always the biggest trying to make space for us." He grunts, flopping unceremoniously onto his back with his knees bent up to keep his toes under the blankets.

"Maybe I don't want you to make space for me, ever think of that?" Fjord asks as he scoots himself away from the edge of the bed.

Caduceus looks at him with a mix of embarrassment and confusion as he tries to keep his gangly limbs to himself and Fjord wiggles his way further into his space. He's not sure if he's being too subtle or maybe Caduceus is just being too obtuse but Fjord decides that boldness has always (usually) served him well and takes hold of Caduceus' arm and pulls it out of the way so he can squirm into his side and lay his head on his boney chest.

"By the gods Caduceus you kissed my snotty mouth earlier but wont initiate a damn cuddle." Fjord gripes as he slings an arm over his still somewhat sunken stomach. Caduceus probably did have a fever, he was much warmer than usual and shivered as Fjord pressed himself up against his side.

"I uh, I guess I was trying to- to respect your space?" Caduceus explains, laying there stiff as a board.

“That’s very kind of you but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask to share.” Fjord replies, tightening his arm around his middle in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. 

There’s a few moments of somewhat awkward silence as Fjord clings to the stone pillar that Caduceus has become before he speaks again. 

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.” He says quietly. 

“Most people hug back but that’s up to you.” 

“Oh right.” 

So Caduceus wraps his long arms around Fjord’s shoulders, stiffly at first, but then more tightly when the warmth of him starts to seep in and Fjord soon finds himself engulfed in long limbs and blankets as Caduceus shivers violently against him. 

“Mmm that’s nice.” Caduceus mutters into Fjord’s hair, his teeth chatter a bit. 

Fjord pulls his borrowed cape tighter around Caduceus' back, grateful that he bought it before their trip to the frozen north.

"This is nice." Fjord mumbles into Caduceus' collar bones, already feeling the warm embrace of sleep drape around him. 

He thinks they may have to have some conversations about what this means, about earlier, but for now this is nice.


End file.
